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Authors: Mike Shepherd

BOOK: Deserter
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“A young girl is with her parents. You are with your friends, and two of Sandfire’s assassins are in the morgue,” Jack said with finality. “Not a bad day’s work.”
“Are they Sandfire’s people? He usually goes for good-looking women. I knifed a man and shot a woman I didn’t get a good look at.”
“My bet is he subcontracted this job, with plenty of cutouts in between.”
“It still seems weird they weren’t after me. Why go for a little girl? No, why go for the Senator’s daughter?” On the way topside, she found Klaggath, Penny, and Tom sitting around a table in what passed for an amidships break room.
“There have been times in history,” Penny said, “when kidnapping was just part of the political give and take.”
“Not lately,” Klaggath said, rising.
“Unity did a few when they were getting started,” Kris said.
“Unity did murders, extortion, and a whole lot of nastiness that are no longer accepted in polite circles,” Klaggath drawled.
“But we live in changing times,” Kris said, trying to smile cheerfully. “Where’re the Kriefs?”
“Aft. Nara’s asleep,” the Inspector said.
“Where are we?”
“We haven’t moved. Would you like to look at the sailboat?”
“You recovered it?”
“Along with two bodies. Are you prepared to identify them?”
Kris took in a deep breath. “No time like the present.”
The cop led her topside, Jack and the rest following. The launch swung at anchor. Off in the distance, silhouetted against a low sun and gray clouds, the big race of the day was still going on. The course and party fleet had moved, leaving the launch almost alone. Two choppers still circled, one marked Press, the other Police. A cabin cruiser of photographers had backed off a hundred meters, but no farther. When Kris came on deck, the photo crews bestirred themselves, but in police grays they took no interest in her. It was nice to be ignored.
Alongside, a barge was tied up. A bit longer than the launch, much wider and square, a small deckhouse aft broke its flat lines. Only rust interrupted the solid blackness of its paint. Perfect for a hearse. Like a beached dolphin, the sailboat lay on its side, keel toward Kris. The mast, with its sails now cut away, hung over the side.
“We found a wedge-shaped air bag on the keel,” Klaggath said. “It would account for the sudden capsizing.”
“Nara was too good a sailor to lose it like that.” Kris nodded.
“The bag was biodegradable. If we’d taken another hour to find it, it would have vanished into the lake.”
“And if you’d been hunting for Nara,” Kris said, letting her eyes rove over the choppy, windswept swells, “who would have bothered with the boat?”
“Exactly.”
Kris spotted a two-person underwater transport lying on one side of the deckhouse; two tarp-covered forms lay on the other side. “Those my friends?” She pointed with a nod.
“You can identify them tomorrow from photos, if you want,” the cop offered.
“Let’s do it now.” Kris glanced around, took in the press chopper and boat. “Unless you don’t want me seen doing it.”
Klaggath followed her gaze. “I think we can handle that.”
They studied the sailboat for a bit longer, until the circling pattern of the press boat took it around to the launch’s other side. Then they moved casually aft to surround the two shapes. Jack, Penny, and Tom imposed themselves between Kris and the chopper as Klaggath stooped to remove the tarp from one body.
The man lay in death, still marked by surprise. That death had found him or that Kris had brought it? No answer to that. “I knifed him in the back.”
“Rather expertly,” Klaggath said. “Haven’t met many who could jab a knife in a man’s back right at the kidney.”
“The Gunny said a knife in the kidney was the fastest way to kill a man. I guess he was right. Sorry I lost your knife.”
“Plenty more where that one came from,” Jack said.
The woman’s face showed rage. “One dart shattered her backbone,” Klaggath said. “All she could do was sink.”
“She was forcing a rebreather on Nara. I don’t know if the girl was too busy fighting to take it or what.”
“So it was a kidnapping,” the Inspector said, covering the body and standing.
“It looked that way to me at the time and still does. Maybe they left something ashore. Have you tossed their homes?”
“We’ve run their fingerprints and retina scans through central. They aren’t in our database. And no, it’s not like Turantic has no thugs that would take a contract like this. We’ve got our share, but it looks like these were off planet.”
“And you can’t do a search of off-planet criminal files just now, can you?” Jack said, a tight frown on his face.
“We’ve got a copy of everyone else’s databases, no more than a month out of date, but these two,” Klaggath nudged one of the bodies with the toe of his shoe, “are not in there.”
Kris nodded. It was not unheard of for people to disappear from the record. Political operatives, some criminals, maybe even her Grampa Al had paid to have his official ID removed from Wardhaven’s central records. People had a right to privacy. Still, your money only bought you out of the present database. “What about your backups?”
Klaggath chuckled. “I expected you’d take longer. Then, you are one of those damn Longknifes. I had a check run against the backups. Nothing in the last two years.”
“How far back do you go?” Penny asked.
“Two years,” Klaggath and Nelly answered together.
“Only two years.” Tom scowled.
“Law passed two years ago,” Klaggath said, eyeing Kris’s chest where Nelly’s voice had come from.
“But hard media can last a hundred, some say a thousand years,” Penny said. “All you have to do is store it.”
“And be able to retrieve it,” the cop said dryly. “Too much old media lying around, and you can’t find anything. At least that was the argument when they passed the law,” Klaggath said, still eyeing Kris. “Your Highness, is there any chance that computer around your neck has backups from off planet?”
That was the first time Klaggath had gotten his tongue around her royal title. Was he just asking a favor, or did it mean more? “Nelly, answer the good Inspector’s question.”
“I am sorry, but my resources are not unlimited, and Kris has me concentrating in other areas than criminal records,” Nelly said, sounding rather contrite and not at all like a computer.
“Didn’t think so, but I had to check.”
“So we have two kidnappers who can’t be traced to Turantic. That leaves only five hundred ninety-nine other planets to choose from,” Kris said, upbeat and chipper anyway.
“And no doubt our media and various talking heads will draw freely from their own biases when they decide where these two perps came from.”
Lots of questions. Few answers. Kris shook her head. The western sky flashed lightning. Tom jumped, but the others took it in stride. Kris took in a deep breath laden with water, both lake and rain. “Smells like a storm coming up. Can we get off the lake? Any chance we can avoid the newsies when we do?”
“I’ll see what can be arranged,” Klaggath said.
“Can I see the Kriefs now?”
“Follow me.”
He took them back to the launch and belowdecks. The family was in the aft cabin. Nara was asleep on a couch, her head in her dad’s lap; the Senator sat across from them. Both eyed the child as if she might vanish if they once looked away. Kris swallowed hard, remembering the wall Mother and Father built between themselves and her after Eddy’s funeral. If he’d been found alive, if he’d escaped capture, might her own parents have been so enthralled by every breath he took? Kris shook her head; life was too busy to fill it with might have beens. The Senator started when Kris rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Can we talk?” Kris asked. Reluctantly, the mother joined Kris in the break area amidships.
“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life,” she said, taking a seat at Kris’s elbow. “I couldn’t have done it. Mel either.”
“I’m glad I was there. But why? Why kidnap your daughter?”
The Senator shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Did it strike you as strange,” Kris said, “that suddenly the President called all his party associates to the ranch, leaving the presidential yacht full of opposition members?”
Kay eyed Kris for a moment. Then she shook her head ruefully. “You are a Longknife. You’ve been here one week.”
“Not yet a full one.” Kris sighed.
“Mel and I weren’t the only opposition members that found somewhere else to watch the race. The yacht sailed with a load of office functionaries but few elected officials.”
“So everyone is getting paranoid.”
“Let’s say that caution has become a byword on Turantic. What we know, we trust. What we don’t know, we are learning to approach cautiously.”
“What do you know?”
The Senator shook her head. “Less and less, since the penalty for espionage, industrial or otherwise, became a matter of life imprisonment for both the agent and the procurer of their services. And some prisons have become notorious for very short life sentences. Haven’t they, Inspector?”
“The new contract prisons do seem to have more prisoner-on-prisoner violence than the jails we run,” the Inspector agreed. “Our unions have been strangely unsuccessful in getting any parliamentary attention on that.”
“But any hint of malfeasance by your fellow officers makes the headlines in seconds.” The Senator’s smile flashed white.
“In the last two years, you say,” Kris noted.
“Two very interesting years,” the Senator said.
“I met a woman a few days ago. She told me business had gotten very difficult of late. Seems her boss was expected to pay a bribe if he wanted to get the contract.”
“Not a bribe,” the Senator corrected. “That would be illegal. No, nothing so crass. Rather provide extra product for ‘test purposes,’ or ‘promotional efforts.’ ”
“I believe my Grampa Al would call that a bribe.”
“He’s not on Turantic.” The Senator sighed.
“You can’t run a world like that without fallout. Yesterday my friends and I tried to get a handle on your planet. We used the official sites, analyzed the numbers. The numbers didn’t add up. Didn’t cross-check. You have three definitions of profit and only one of them shows growth,” Kris said, as much the industrialist’s granddaughter as the Prime Minister’s daughter.
“Ah.” Kay chuckled. “Our stock market has grown for six straight years, hasn’t it, Inspector?”
“Every year I get glowing reports from my fund managers claiming spectacular growth. Strangely, for the last three years there hasn’t been much extra money to show for it.”
“Productivity up?” Kris asked.
“The official reports say so.”
“Where’s the money going?”
The Senator shrugged.
“It’s going somewhere,” Kris said.
“Certainly. But,” the woman spread her hands wide, “I can’t tell you, and could get locked up for looking too hard.”
“Nelly, have you got an answer?”
“I noted discontinuities when I first researched Turantic. Now here, I could attempt a better answer, but I would have to go beyond what is available in the public domain.”
“So even your computer can’t find a pattern in the available data. If she goes beyond what’s posted, you break laws this government is quick to prosecute.”
“Nelly, hold off on further research,” Kris said, not willing to risk jail for her computer’s newfound initiative.
“Yes, ma’am.”
But Kris wasn’t willing to quit without tackling at least one more question. “Nelly, the civilian Turantic fleet has been brought in for upgrade to new safety standards. Should the work required by law be completed by now?”
“Yes, ma’am. It should be done.”
“Yet shifts go on around the clock in the yards. Equipment, some of it quite large, still goes up the elevator.”
The Senator shrugged. “And I hear, with so many people out of work in our foreign trade, even more are hiring on at the yard and the plants that feed into it. Interesting, isn’t it?”
“More than interesting. Do you know anything about what’s being shipped up to the yard?”
“Don’t know a thing. Some of my biggest supporters bid on those contracts. All went to a Tory supporter. Strange, that.”
Kris thought for a moment. “Have any of your friends hired anyone away from the winners?”
That drew a chuckle. “You sound more like a business-woman than a Navy type. As a matter of fact, no. Lately there hasn’t been much job changing. And there are very draconian laws enforcing the nondisclosure agreements that several companies require their staff to sign. I am not sure any manager or scientist could change employers just now and not violate them.”
“Draconian laws passed in the last two years?”
“Three years, I believe, for that one.”
“We’re tying up now,” an Agent announced. The Senator joined her husband and groggy child. Kris let them have a fifteen-minute lead before she and her crew went topside. Other larger yachts were already tied up at the new Yacht Club. On their decks, music, laughter, and talk wafted on the fitful breeze as parties continued, unaffected by death or weather.
“I thought the race was still going,” Kris said.
“It is, but some, like Tommy here, take less chances with the wind and rain than others do,” Jack said, giving Tom a nudge.
Klaggath signed that his team was ready. Kris made ready to dodge the newsies ranked before her at the foot of the pier.
“Was this another attempt on your life, Princess?” shouted several at once. “Do you credit Nuu Enterprises’ withholding of vaccines for this public hatred?” was there, too. “Didn’t you consider you were putting that little girl at risk when you went racing with her?” rankled, but “Is Wardhaven going to invade Turantic?” stopped her. Jack was stepping forward to do the usual begging off, she was tired, routine, when Kris stopped him with a gentle elbow to the stomach.

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